Crash
by Jenny7
Summary: The plane crashed, and so did the passengers on it. Thoughts that go through the minds of the passengers of Oceanic Flight 815.


Disclaimer: I do not own Lost or any of the characters in it. I also borrowed the lyrics from "Untitled" by Simple Plan.

Notes: I watched the video for "Untitled" by Simple Plan this morning for the first time. Every single word and image in it made an image of the plane crash go through my head. That's when I knew this had to be done.

Summary: The plane crashed, and so did the passengers on it. Thoughts that go through the minds of the passengers of Oceanic Flight 815.

Crash

_I open my eyes  
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light  
I can't remember how  
I can't remember why  
I'm lying here tonight  
_

Jack lay on the ground, motionless at first. He struggled to regain consciousness. There were noises all around him, loud and frightening noises. Something that sounded like an engine starting. And there were screams, screams of pain. He took a deep breath and tried to remember something, anything at all. His mind and body were entirely numb and he felt as if he were floating ten feet off of the ground.

Then he opened his eyes.

He began to remember fragments, bits and pieces of what had gotten to this point in his life. There was his now ex-wife, how beautiful she was in her wedding gown. There was his father's face the last time Jack had saw him, at the hearing when he'd testified against him. There was his mother, her face contorted in worry as she pleaded with him to go find his father. There was the empty hotel room filled with empty liquor bottles and the coroner pointed to the corpse under the sheet. He saw his father's face, pale and motionless.

"Dad…" He whispered.

And there was, of course, a plane. There was the young man running frantically down the aisle, the flight attendant chasing after him urgently. And then the older woman clutching the handles of her seat in fear. He distinctly saw himself reassuring her, telling her that he would take care of her. And then…there was the crash.

He took a huge breath in and all at once he felt aches across his entire body. He felt a deep and throbbing pain in his side, and he saw green blurs up above him. Once his vision cleared he realized that these green blurs were trees. He felt himself panic. You get five seconds Jack, he told himself. Five seconds to be afraid.

One. He watched the sky above him, blue and peaceful despite the chaos he sensed around him.

Two. The screams around him had gotten louder. The sound of the engine was deafening in his already sensitive ears.

Three. He moved his arm. He flexed his fingers and felt no pain in them. He blinked three times.

Four. He moved his legs, first the right and then the left. He flexed his toes and his ankle. They were sore, but they still worked.

Five. He lifted himself off of the ground in a slow and steady motion. He opened his eyes and looked around him.

Now it was time to do what he could to fix this situation.

_And I can't stand the pain  
And I can't make it go away  
No I can't stand the pain_

Claire opened her eyes to a whole new world. There was smoke above her. She moved her eyes back and forth in panic, wondering where she was and why she was lying on the ground. She slowly attempted to move her fingers, feeling a grainy rocky texture underneath her. Sand? She turned her head slowly and looked to her right. There a man there. He was bleeding and calling out for help. She tried to move her lips, tried to tell him that she was here, but she couldn't do it. She watched as blood poured from his chest. She watched as he looked over at her, his eyes filled with fear and dread.

Then, all at once, she remembered her baby. She moved her hand down to her stomach, feeling for the now familiar bulge. It was still there, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Some one ran by her on her left side, causing sand to fly into her eyes. She cried out to tried to clear her eyes. Without them she had nothing. She had to see what was going on around her. "Help!" She cried out in pain.

Then she felt it. A small pain in her stomach. At first she thought it could have just been a kick, but it continued to grow. It grew until she could barely breath. It was the most intense pain she had ever felt. She pulled herself up to a sitting position, holding her baby all the way.

"Ahh!" She screamed. She tried to breath slowly but the panic and adrenaline combined with the growing pains in her stomach made this nearly impossible. She tried to get to her feet, tried to stand. She had to get up so that she could find somebody to help her. She needed to let them know that she was still here.

And finally she stood up. She wobbled and tried her best to keep her balance through the sharp pains she was experiencing. She felt tears coming down her face. When had she started to cry? She noticed people everywhere, running from one side of her to the other. No one noticed her. She had to find someone to help her.

"Help me, please!" She shouted. "Please someone, save my baby!"

_How could this happen to me  
I made my mistakes  
I've got no where to run  
The night goes on  
As I'm fading away  
I'm sick of this life  
I just wanna scream  
How could this happen to me_

She felt herself fading more and more by the minute. The screams were terrible. Everyone was in so much pain. She felt her body with her hands, trying to find the source of the pain she was experiencing. She couldn't find anything. Not a cut or a scrape. There was a scratch on her head, but it was minimal. But she had to be injured, she felt it. She felt something very wrong.

"Boone?" It was the first word to reach her mind and the first word to escape her lips. He was her brother, her savior. If anyone could help her through this it was him. She needed him now, more then ever.

She felt herself panicking more and more by the minute. She frantically sat up, feeling a surging pain her back as she did so. She rubbed her eyes with her fingers. They felt irritated, like there was something stuck in them. Everything was tinted in gray, like the smoke that was currently filling the air above her head. "Boone?" She said again in a whisper. She suddenly realized that the first word had been a whisper too. But she had thought she was screaming it.

What was happening to her?

She stood up and waited to make sure that her legs would support her. She watched one man roll around on the ground. He was on fire. She watched another woman do CPR on a young man next to her. She was beating on his chest and sobbing. Shannon felt herself begin to shake uncontrollably.

She looked out into the horizon and screamed her pain away.

_Everybody's screaming  
I try to make a sound but no one hears me  
I'm slipping off the edge  
I'm hanging by a thread  
I wanna start this over again  
_

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes were his letters. H.A.T.E. They were written clearly on the four fingers of his left hand. He was lying on his stomach and his hand was in front of his eyes. He tried to think back, tried to remember how he had come to this moment. He was drawing a blank, and that frightened him more then anything.

Then, he remembered that he hadn't breathed since he'd woken up.

He took a large and frightened breathe in. Instead of air, though, he found himself inhaling a small grainy substance. His first thought was drugs. It wouldn't be the first time he'd found himself lying face down in a pile of coke. It was the life of a rock star after all.

But this wasn't cocaine, and he coughed painfully until every last grain had been cleared of his lungs.

"Bollocks" he muttered. He spit out whatever of the substance was left in his mouth and finally got a clear vision of the sand underneath him. Behind him he heard a loud piercing scream. It was a woman's scream, but not like the screams of his fans at his rock concerts. This was a painful scream. He lifted himself up by his arms and rolled over onto his side.

He coughed again and moved his hand to run it through his hair. He stopped when he saw that his hand was shaking. His eyes widened in fear and his breath caught in his throat. And then he reached for his feet, his shoes. They were still there, on his feet as they should be. Somehow he was surprised by this fact. He pulled the left one off and found nothing inside of it.

"No…" He muttered and dropped that shoe. He reached for the other, hoping against all odds that it was there.

And it was. He pulled the wadded up baggy out and opened it. He dipped his finger in and pulled out just enough, just enough to stop the shaking. He had to stop the shaking at all costs.

He put the drug against his cheek and savored the feeling as it melted into his blood system. He let out a breath of relief and put his shoes back on. He stood up without much trouble and suddenly realized that he had no idea where he was going or where he even was.

Everywhere there were people. There were people who were alive and screaming, and the only ones who weren't screaming clearly weren't alive. He looked at the bloodied mess all around him, and he knew immediately that he was in Hell.

He dropped his wide-eyed stare and lifted his hands in the air. They continued to shake uncontrollably.

"Bloody hell."

_So I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered  
And I can't explain what happened  
And I can't erase the things that I've done  
No I can't  
_

Her eyes had never closed. She'd watched first as the plane had rattled and rocked. She'd watched as the large object had hit the head of the man who held her captive. She had been conscious as the tail section of the plane flew off and all of those helpless people blew away with it. She had seen it all.

And then, when they'd crashed, she'd watched as all of those unconscious people had scattered across the ground like raindrops during a storm. She knew that she had to shield herself from the impact and found herself unbuckling her seat belt and curling up into a ball on the floor of the airplane. She knew she would survive, she always did. It was her punishment for the mistakes she had made.

And now she was here, clinging to this small piece of the plane like it was her only hope. She hid herself behind it, keeping herself curled into the tightest ball she could possible master. She heard the screams and the words of the man who was trying to save them all. She closed her eyes and retreated to a world all her own, a place where she could be whoever she wanted and wherever she wanted. A place without any pain.

She thought of her life and how it was as series of things she couldn't fully explain. She did things, but she had never known why she did them. When the marshal had asked her why she did the things she did, she had shrugged and bit her lip to keep from crying. She didn't know anymore then he did. She didn't know why she had to run away, but she did have to run away. It wasn't a question she had the time to answer because she was too busy running and hiding.

She laid her cheek against her knees and looked out onto the beach. There was a pregnant woman, standing and holding her stomach. There was a number of people bleeding from every part of their body and crying out in pain. There was the man who she presumed was a doctor who was trying to help them all but barely surviving himself. And the young blonde girl, who could not stop screaming.

And she had the answer to her question.

_I made my mistakes  
I've got no where to run  
The night goes on  
As I'm fading away  
I'm sick of this life  
I just wanna scream  
How could this happen to me  
_

When Sawyer woke up, he knew wasn't back in Los Angeles. He knew that the screeching sound was the engine of the airplane. He knew that the screams were of the victims of the plane crash.

But, as far as he was concerned, he wasn't one of them .

He'd passed out, but not for long. He'd woken up just in time to witness the crash onto the island. _Oh hell._ This was his first thought. He watched with eyes wide open as they hit the island head on and rubble was scattered everywhere. He was jolted out of his seat and found himself lying face down somewhere in the trees. He had a few scratches but that was it. This wasn't a joyous thought for him. Because, once again, death had cheated him.

Dammit! He wanted to die. He wasn't going to kill himself. He wasn't that kind of pansy, but more then anything he knew that he deserved to be dead. The things he had done were unforgivable and yet time after time death had passed him right over for someone else. Someone less deserving, like that child lying over there in the sand.

He looked away from the body of the child as quickly as he had noticed it. As much as he wanted to see it, torture himself with the sight of it, he couldn't bare it. He couldn't bare the thought of an innocent boy dying. He looked at the boy and saw the little boy who's mother he had slept with. He saw the little boy's face as he had looked up at him like he was a new friend, rather then the devil intruding on his perfect world.

Sawyer was pissed. He was pissed that it wasn't him. He was pissed that all of these damn people were dead or dying and he was here, standing up and breathing and living. He couldn't condemn himself any more then he already had. He couldn't isolate himself anymore then he already had. He'd reached the limit that any mortal man can come to when it comes to punishing yourself. And still, it would never be enough.

He watched as the engine of the plane sucked a man into it. It was a terrible sight, but he watched it. He imagined that it was the person who had screwed him over, that it was Sawyer. That it was him.

He closed his eyes, bowed his head, and tried his hardest not to breathe.


End file.
